Dyeing to be Loved (Curl Up and Dye Mysteries, #1)

by Aimee Nicole Walker

  I didn’t bother examining the reasons or look for a deeper meaning because it didn’t matter. Simply put, Josh Roman just did it for me. End of story. I wasn’t sure we liked one another beyond the physical attraction we both clearly felt. It wouldn’t have mattered to me ten years ago; I would’ve just enjoyed the ride and walked away when it was over. I felt differently about a lot of things at age thirty-five though. Starting something with Josh, that I knew would end badly, wasn’t a good idea, especially living in a small town where we’d run into one another. Hell, I had that with Kyle and was fortunate enough that neither of us had bad feelings towards each other.

  I would’ve made Josh breakfast had he bothered to stick around, but instead, I found myself making an omelet and toast for one. I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d ever have the chance to cook him breakfast after a night of sex or would he always run off. I didn’t doubt that there’d be another time because I instinctively knew we would find ourselves naked in each other’s arms again. It was what came after that had me puzzled.

  I pushed all thoughts of Josh away and focused on getting Buddy set for the day. He had adapted to our morning routine quickly, and I was ready to give him a shot at roaming the entire house, but not until he got over his disappointment at being shut out of my bedroom the previous night. I had a pissed off… Josh—for lack of knowing what to call him—and a pouting dog to contend with that morning. I hoped the rest of my day held less drama.

  Adrian beat me to the station that morning and was at his desk when I walked in. His shrewd eyes looked me up and down before a knowing grin split his face. “You look… different,” he said, pretending to puzzle over the changes. “Is that a new tie?”

  “No,” I replied calmly, refusing to take his bait. “I wear this about once a week. You know, maybe I should talk to the captain about getting a new partner since my current one isn’t as observant as he used to be.”

  “Oh, I’m plenty observant, all right,” Adrian disputed. “I’m observing that you look a lot more relaxed than you did yesterday. You must have had one hell of a night’s sleep.”

  “Sure did,” I said, sitting down at my desk and powering up my computer. “Good breakfast too.”

  “Yeah, I bet…”

  Adrian wasn’t able to finish his sentence because Officer Dooley stopped by our desks and said, “The captain wants to see you guys.”

  “I wonder what that’s about?” I asked Adrian.

  “I guess we’ll find out,” he responded as he rose from his chair.

  Captain Shawn Reardon was a no-nonsense man in his late forties whose discipline was evident in the way he presented himself to the world. He walked tall, spoke precisely and said only what needed to be said, and ran our precinct like a well-oiled machine. Men respected him, ladies lusted after him, and he didn’t seem to care about either. In fact, he cared about one thing and one thing only—justice. He didn’t bat an eye when we told him what we had learned from Mrs. Honeycutt and informed him that we wanted to question the mayor.

  “You don’t need my permission to follow leads,” he had told us. So, I wondered what new development happened that would prompt him to call us into his office. I suspected it had something to do with the case, specifically the mayor.

  “I received a call from a man claiming to be the mayor’s attorney,” Captain Reardon told us once we were in his office. He sat back in his chair with his hands steepled in front of his chest. “He demanded to know why we wanted to speak to his client and I refused to go into details over the phone with a man from Dayton that I had never met before. I expressed to him my extreme disappointment that he would think I was so stupid.” A lot of people made the mistake of treating small town Americans as if they were backward or stupid. “After I set him straight, he informed me that both he and his client would grace our presence tomorrow morning at nine.”

  “That’s great news,” I told the captain.

  “We’ll be ready,” Adrian added.

  “While the mayor’s out of town, I think you should visit with the current Mrs. Beaumont. See if maybe things aren’t as peachy as she’d like the town to believe. Maybe she knew that Rocky was fooling around. She might recognize the signs from when he had an affair with her.”

  “On it, sir.”

  As we were leaving the captain’s office, Officer Dooley stopped us. “We just received a call of a possible break-in at Georgia Beaumont’s house,” he said. “A neighbor spotted the back door gaping open and called the station. I figured you’d want to know.”

  “Thanks, Dooley. Radio the officers and let them know we’re on our way,” Adrian said.

  We grabbed our jackets and headed over to meet up with the responding officers. Jones and Kasey were waiting for us on the back porch. We all entered with our guns out in case the perpetrator was still inside the house. The four of us split up and checked each and every room before we regrouped in the kitchen once we were sure the house was clear.

  “Master bedroom and bathroom were completely trashed,” I told the group. “I don’t know if they were looking for something or just wanted to vandalize the rooms.”

  “Guest rooms are trashed too,” Adrian said. “It looked like they were searching for something because all of the drawers in the dresser are open, the mattresses are pulled off the beds, and the box springs were cut open.”

  “That’s what I found in the master too. It looked like they ripped all the clothes off the hangers and pulled every box down off the closet shelves and dumped it on the floor. The contents of her jewelry box were strewn across the top of her dresser.” I let out a frustrated breath. “The only person who might know if there’s anything missing is Mrs. Honeycutt. Adrian, why don’t you give her a call and ask if she’s willing to assist us.”

  He pointed a finger at his chest. “Me?”

  “She knows you well. Use your charm,” I teased Adrian as he left the room to place the call.

  “Downstairs doesn’t appear to be touched at all,” Officer Kasey said. “I’m leaning more toward someone looking for something specific rather than vandalism, or even theft if her jewelry was still there.”

  “I agree,” I told her. “If only we knew what they had been looking for.”

  Adrian returned to the kitchen and said, “Mrs. Honeycutt is on her way.”

  “Great,” I replied then turned to address Officers Jones and Kasey. “Adrian and I have an interview to conduct so we’re going to leave Mrs. Honeycutt in your capable hands. Call us if she thinks something has been taken or even suspects what the perp was looking for.”

  “Will do,” Officer Jones replied.

  Rocky Beaumont’s new residence wasn’t quite as grand and glamorous as his first. I wondered if that bothered Nadine Beaumont that her predecessor got to keep the mini mansion in the divorce settlement while she got stuck with a house that would fit on Georgia’s first floor.

  The door wasn’t answered right away when we rang. I could hear the sound of kids romping inside the house, so I knew that someone was at home. When Nadine Beaumont answered the door, she looked like she hadn’t showered or dressed in days. Her hair looked like a rat had made a nest in it, she had a swollen nose, and dark circles under her eyes from her broken nose. She wore stained pajamas and an ancient looking robe.

  “I’ve been expecting you.” She opened the door for us to come inside.

  We followed her into a living room that was in just as bad a shape as Georgia’s ransacked bedrooms. There were toys tossed all over the room and dirty dishes on every available surface. It would seem that, not only did Nadine get the smaller house, it also didn’t come with a Mrs. Honeycutt. Adrian and I exchanged quick looks that said something wasn’t right about the situation.

  Two small children ran into the room whooping and shouting as they chased one another until they saw that strangers were present. The boy and girl screeched to a halt and stared up at us with matching sets of big brown eyes. As unkempt as Nadine was, I had expecte
d the kids to be in similar shape, but I was wrong. They were clean, dressed, and appeared to be very happy children. I couldn’t say that about their mother.

  “Have a seat,” Nadine said dispassionately, gesturing to the sofa covered in toys. “I’m going to take the kids in the other room and put in a movie for them.”

  I picked up a stuffed dinosaur off the couch and set it on the coffee table next to a plate with a half-eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwich before I sat down. I had conducted some strange interviews before, but I had a feeling this one would take the cake. I looked over at Adrian, and he wore a similar expression of disbelief on his face.

  Before I could say anything to him, Nadine returned to the living room. “Sorry about that,” she said, smoothing down the front of her robe nervously with her hands. She sat on the love seat across from us and offered a weak smile. “What can I do for you, Detectives?”

  I was wondering just how to approach the situation with her. Adrian and I didn’t have time to discuss a game plan before we came over because of the situation with Georgia’s house. She had already given her alibi for the night that Georgia died, which happened to be her husband. As alibis went, it was a weak one; besides, we were going on a theory that someone hired a killer since the crime scene was immaculate.

  “I know what you want to ask,” Nadine said as if she was reading my mind. “You want to know if I’m covering for Rocky by saying he was home with me the night Georgia died.” Close, but I wasn’t about to correct her; I wanted to see what she said voluntarily. “Look, Rocky is many things, but a killer isn’t one of them. I wouldn’t be here if I thought him capable of hurting someone like that.”

  “What about you?” Adrian asked, not hesitating to ask the tough question. “There was no love lost between you and Georgia Beaumont.”

  The question didn’t faze Nadine one bit. She let out an unladylike snort before she said, “I once loved Georgia a lot, and she loved me too. I let greed and my desire for a better life override my moral code and ruined our friendship.” Her voice cracked at the last part and, if possible, her posture crumpled even more. She stared down at her feet for a very long time before she looked back at Adrian. “The things I said to her in the salon were terrible, and I have to live with that for the rest of my life.”

  “Yet, you came to the station that night to press charges against her,” I reminded Nadine. “That doesn’t sound very remorseful.” I was hoping to get a rise from her because anger often brought out truths people didn’t want to reveal.

  “It was foolish pride. I was embarrassed that Georgia broke my nose and pissed that we had to cancel our anniversary dinner plans because of it,” Nadine replied while looking me straight in the eye as if she had nothing to hide. “I do regret the way I acted in the salon, at the station, and a lot of other things.”

  “Nadine, you said you were once close to Georgia, so can you tell us if there was anyone in her past that would want to hurt her?” Adrian asked.

  “No one from her past that I could think of,” she replied after several moments of contemplation. “I think she was seeing someone though.”

  “What makes you say that?” I asked, wondering if she suspected it was her husband.

  “The gossip hags made it known that she’d ordered some new lingerie from the boutique in town. Why would a single woman order lingerie?” Nadine asked.

  I could only shrug because I didn’t have an answer, although I suspected she was right. I mean, I knew next to nothing about women and thought it could be possible that wearing pretty things might just make them feel better about themselves, but I didn’t know.

  Well, we wanted to get an idea on whether Nadine suspected her husband was cheating on her with his first wife. Either she didn’t know, or she was a brilliant actress. It was still supposition at that point, as we had no physical evidence to prove that Rocky and Georgia were sleeping together; only the word of a bereaved woman who disliked Rocky immensely—okay, she hated his fucking guts.

  I looked over at Adrian to see if he had any more questions for her and he shook his head slightly indicating that he didn’t. We rose to our feet at the same time. “Thanks for your time, Mrs. Beaumont,” I said politely.

  “You’re welcome,” Nadine replied. “I suppose you’ll be wanting to talk with Rocky when he returns from his hunting trip in Tennessee.”

  Her surprising words almost made me turn around and ask her to repeat herself, but I could tell by Adrian’s posture that I heard her correctly. Rocky’s secretary said he was in Columbus at a mayoral convention and his wife said he was hunting in Tennessee. Furthermore, Rocky had already scheduled an appointment to speak with us, but didn’t tell his wife. Either she was a good liar, or she was fucking clueless. From what I was learning about the good mayor, I was betting on the latter.

  “We sure do, Mrs. Beaumont.”

  WEDNESDAYS WERE USUALLY SLOWER days at the salon with a more laid-back vibe, but not that week. Everyone who wanted to come in the day before to stick their nose in my business, but couldn’t, showed up. Included in the mix were a few hair emergencies that needed my immediate attention, like the four-year-old girl who cut her own hair with a pair of scissors or the client who was too impatient to wait for her appointment and took the hair color dye into her own hands. Praise Jesus she didn’t use a permanent color because five hours and $250 later, she looked like a brand new woman. The mother of the little girl had fared much better than my DIY client. The little girl stopped before she got to her bangs, so I was able to give her a cute inverted bob that mom adored and wanted for herself on her next visit.

  I was pleased with the success I achieved, but it also meant that I got very hangry when I worked long past my lunch break. I wasn’t one to use annoying hip terms like bae or fleek, but I loved the word hangry because it properly expressed how grouchy I became when I let my blood sugar get too low. I didn’t eat after I fled from Gabe’s house and I missed lunch because of the two emergencies I handled back-to-back. It was well after two in the afternoon by the time I made a quick escape to Edson and Emma’s Diner. Luckily for me, the place had thinned out pretty good that late in the afternoon.

  My waitress, Daniella, stopped by my table with a tall glass of sweet tea. She didn’t need to ask what I wanted to drink. “A little late for lunch today, aren’t you, Josh?”

  “Hair emergencies,” I said like that explained it all.

  “Ahhh,” she replied. “Chicken salad on a croissant, potato chips, and a pickle, right?”

  It was what I normally ate on Wednesday, but a little voice in the back of my head told me to shake things up a little and go outside my comfort zone. “I think I’ll take a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of vegetable beef soup instead.” Daniella narrowed her eyes, assessing to see if I was joking. “For real,” I told her. “Soup sounds amazing, and no one makes a better grilled cheese than Emma.”

  “Oookay,” Daniella said slowly. She looked at me as if I had just told her that I was a straight man after all. She finally walked to the kitchen to give my order.

  Emma peeked out the window between the kitchen and dining room. “Are you feeling all right, Josh?”

  “Perfectly fine, Em,” I replied, although I was anything but fine. I had to play it cool though, or she’d call my mom in Boca Raton and get her all riled up.

  Nothing about the situation with Gabe was fine, and I wasn’t sure what to do about it. I had forced thoughts of him out of my mind all day long and focused on work. Unfortunately, I had nothing to keep my mind occupied while I was waiting for my food, so naturally, Gabe was the only thing it wanted to concentrate on.

  The first thing my brain wanted me to admit, but I refused, was how well-rested I felt that morning. I hadn’t slept well since Bianca’s killer attacked me in my bedroom. I kept referring to him as “the man” because I didn’t want to know his name or anything about him. It was hard enough getting past what happened when I didn’t know a single detail about him; I
feared he’d haunt me forever if I knew even the slightest thing about him.

  I wasn’t about to give Gabriel Wyatt credit for my good night’s sleep. Nope. I was exhausted after a chaotic day that wore me out. I blamed the exhaustion for the reason why I showed up on his doorstep in the first place. I would’ve run right on past his house had I been functioning on full steam. I knew the feeble-ass excuses were lies, but I’d never admit that to anyone, let alone Gabe. I couldn’t let that man have the upper hand in whatever was happening between us.

  I decided to lose myself in trivial shit on Facebook while I waited for my sandwich. I looked at the time on my phone and realized I’d already been there for ten minutes. How the fuck long did it take to scoop chicken salad onto a plate and add chips? Shit! I remembered that I ordered a grilled cheese sandwich and soup instead. I had an appointment soon, and I didn’t want to be late. I loathed running late. I looked suspiciously at the kitchen window and noticed it was pretty damn quiet in there. I had a sneaky suspicion that Emma was up to no good and was about to get up and investigate when I saw Daniella walk by the kitchen window with my lunch.

  “Here you go, honey,” Daniella said. “I’m sorry it took so long. I had to take a few carryout orders.”

  That was a relief because I had convinced myself that Emma had snuck outside on her cell phone to call my mom, who just happened to be her best friend since kindergarten. The last thing I needed was Roberta “Bertie” Roman dialing me up and threatening to come back to Ohio to fix whatever was bothering me. She might’ve been over a thousand miles away, but she was still my mom, and I was her only child. I was on the receiving end of all her maternal focus and attention, and it got to be a little much at times.

  I bit into my grilled cheese, and all my cares momentarily faded away. My only thoughts were of buttery toasted bread and the cheesy goodness in the middle. I must’ve moaned my appreciation out loud because I heard a male chuckle coming from behind me.